


All the Loose Ends

by marieshens



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien has a lot to deal with, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hawkmoth dies, Identity Reveal, rated teen for minor blood/violence/death, so there's fallout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-06 10:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16385840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marieshens/pseuds/marieshens
Summary: After Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat Hawkmoth and the supervillain dies, most of Paris is celebrating. Marinette is trying to support Adrien through his grief but is getting increasingly confused by Chat Noir's strange behaviour and sudden penchant for secrecy.





	1. The Final Battle

”No!” Chat screamed, the raw sound torn from his throat. Hawkmoth stood over Ladybug’s body, and quick as Chat was, even he could not sprint across the rooftop fast enough to reach Ladybug before Hawkmoth plunged his cane sword into Ladybug’s chest. It stuck there, quivering, casting a stark shadow in the evening sun as Hawkmoth slipped the earrings from her ears.  
Chat could see nothing but the rage flooding his vision. His Lady… His Ladybug. She was dead, and he had been too late to protect her. The least he could do was avenge her. He vaulted forward, dividing his baton in two, and years of fencing practice turned into a blistering attack. Hawkmoth yanked his sword out of Ladybug just in time to parry, but even experience was no match for the sheer fury that filled Chat. “Gabriel Agreste,” he growled, driving Hawkmoth closer and closer to the edge of the rooftop. “Why? Why? How could you?”  
“Some things are more important than a single girl’s life,” Hawkmoth shot back. “You’ll never understand.”  
“I loved her!” Chat shouted, and Hawkmoth smiled a small, humourless smile.  
“Well then, perhaps you will understand after all.”  
Chat swung his baton at him in a savage blow without thinking. Mid-swing, he faltered as he looked into Hawkmoth’s eyes and for a moment saw only his father there, filled with the grief and sorrow that had possessed him ever since Emilie’s disappearance. In that crucial moment of distraction, Chat found his wrist in a vice-like grip. Before he could react or call on his cataclysm, Hawkmoth reached for his hand and tugged off his ring.  
“No,” Chat gasped, as the green light began to sizzle up his body.  
Hawkmoth’s tone was nothing short of triumphant.  
“Unfortunately, every action requires balance. Every life saved demands a sacrifice,” he said, as the green light reached Adrien’s waist. Adrien could only stare in horror.  
“You will be that sacrifice, Chat Noir,” Hawkmoth said, smirking as he raised his sword for one last fatal blow.  
Adrien knew the moment his transformation passed his face when he saw Hawkmoth pale.  
“A- Adrien?” Hawkmoth faltered, stumbling backwards and releasing his grip.  
“Hello, Father.” Adrien lunged forward, reaching for the fist in which Hawkmoth held the two miraculouses, but Hawkmoth was quicker. He darted out of Adrien’s reach. All the triumph was stripped from his face, leaving only bitter sorrow.  
“It’s better this way, Adrien,” he said, in a heavy voice laced with grief, and with that parting sentiment he flung himself to the side and off the rooftop.  
“Father!” Adrien yelled, racing to the edge over which Hawkmoth had fallen. Once again he was too late. Too terribly late. Far, far below he saw the still and splayed body of his father and nemesis, a pool of blood slowly spreading around his shattered skull.  
Adrien was barely aware of what happened next. There was a fire escape on the edge of the building and he scrambled down it, heedless of the scrapes his palms and elbows suffered. He ran to his father’s side and dropped to his knees. The ring and earrings had slipped from Hawkmoth’s grasp as he fell and Adrien slipped the ring on by habit, numbly calling for his transformation. He picked up the earrings as well, gripping them so tightly that he thought they would pierce holes in his palm.  
“Father,” he whispered, unable to see anything but Gabriel’s proud face beneath the bloodied mask. “I didn’t mean- I didn’t want it to end like this.”  
“Chat Noir?”  
His head whipped up and he brought his baton up in instinctive self-defence, only to find himself staring into Alya’s wide eyes. She was holding her phone in a shaking hand.  
“I’m sorry…” she stammered. “I should have been there, I should have been there to help.”  
He shook his head. “What could you have done?” he said bitterly. He didn’t mean to sound cruel, but his head was too full to deal with courtesies.  
“I’m Rena Rouge,” Alya said, briefly muting her livefeed. “I could have helped.”  
Chat shook his head again, finding himself too numb to be surprised. “It wouldn’t have made a difference,” he muttered. “Why do you still have a camera in my face? A man is dead. Show some respect.”  
Alya gulped. “I, uh, I was on another rooftop, and I saw Hawkmoth jump after you detransformed. I couldn’t catch who you were-“  
“So you ran down and around here to see if you could film my identity?” Chat demanded.  
“No! But the public deserves to know who Hawkmoth is… was,” Alya said. She had unmuted the feed. Her jaw was set with determination. “Better they find out conclusively now than the press hound the families of everyone who died or is reported missing tonight.”  
She had a point. Chat knew exactly what it was like to be hounded by the press, and while he was sure there were reasons why this was idiocy, he was too tired to think of them.  
“Gabriel Agreste,” he said.  
Alya started. “What?”  
“Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth.” He reached forward and unpinned the butterfly miraculous from his father’s jacket. A purple light washed over him, releasing his transformation.  
“Are we done here?” Chat demanded.  
Wide-eyed, Alya stopped recording and lowered her phone slowly. “Oh my god,” she whispered.  
“Alya!” a tinny voice squeaked. A bedraggled-looking Tikki emerged in a flash of pink light and darted towards Alya. “Food! Do you have food?” she asked desperately. Before the blinking Alya could respond, Tikki phased into Alya’s bag and almost immediately back out again, cramming a macaron from Alya’s lunch into her mouth. Her whole tiny body shuddered as she swallowed.  
“Is that Ladybug’s-“ Alya began, but was cut off by Tikki’s tinny voice.  
“Miraculous Ladybug!” Tikki shouted, with as much strength as she could muster, and the wave of pink ladybugs washed over all of them.  
For a moment Adrien allowed himself to hope. He stared down at his father’s body, willing, wishing, but even though the ladybugs washed over him, Gabriel’s body remained stubbornly shattered and still.  
“I’m sorry,” Tikki whispered in his ear. “Even I cannot bring back the dead.”  
“Where’s Ladybug?” Alya demanded suddenly. “I saw her get stabbed, but is she-“  
“She isn’t dead,” Tikki said firmly, and Adrien let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding.  
“Oh, thank god,” he whispered, slumping forward.  
“Chat, my earrings, please,” Tikki said patiently. “I need to get back to her.”  
“Of course.” He passed the earrings to Tikki and she flew off. Chat allowed himself to collapse ungracefully, dropping onto the concrete and letting his face fall into his hands.  
“Chat?” Alya said. “Chat, are you okay?”  
He almost laughed at that. He had never been further from okay. He should be going after Ladybug. He should be doing something, anything, but somehow all he could find the strength to do was sit on the cold hard concrete, staring at nothing, willing it all away.  
“Chat?” a soft voice said. Alya crouched beside him and slipped an arm around his shoulders. There were sirens in the distance. “It will be okay.”  
Chat rested his head against her shoulder. “No, it won’t,” he said, his voice muffled. “I’m not sure it will ever be okay again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments! I'd love to hear what you think


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien is in shock and friends are important

Ladybug swung down from the rooftop and came quickly to Chat Noir’s side, glancing briefly at where Hawkmoth lay. She looked away before it made her sick.  
“Chat,” she said, resting her hand on his shoulder. He flinched away from her touch and she pulled her hand back, startled.  
“Chat, what happened?”  
When a long silence indicated Chat wasn’t about to answer, Alya cleared her throat.  
“You got stabbed,” she said. “Hawkmoth got your earrings and Chat went all berserk, like crazy sword-fighter style, and he drove Hawkmoth right to the edge of the rooftop. Hawkmoth grabbed his ring- and then he ran off and jumped off the rooftop. And… uh, splat.”  
Ladybug’s mouth dropped open. “He jumped?”  
Chat looked up at her. His face was a horrible sight, pale and stricken as if a ghost was possessing him. “What, did you think I would push him?” he said. His tone had an odd edge to it.  
“I…no, I… I don’t know.” She crouched next to him. “I just didn’t expect this.”  
“Me neither.”  
“Are you alright, Chat?”  
“No.”  
“Me neither.”  
The sirens were growing louder.  
“I thought you were dead,” Chat said at last.  
“I’m not,” she said.  
His fingers fumbled for hers and found them, interlocking neatly. He clung onto her as if she was his lifeline, his saviour, and perhaps she was.  
“Good,” he whispered. “Don’t die. Please don’t die.”  
“I’ll try,” Ladybug promised.  
In the end, the police questioned all three teenagers, but the livestream on the Ladyblog showed what had happened pretty convincingly. Hawkmoth had jumped. He hadn’t been pushed, he hadn’t been forced, he hadn’t even been backed into a corner. He had jumped of his own volition. The police officially classed it as a suicide. The mood was subdued by death, but there was a palpable edge of relief in the air. Despite the tragic ending, Paris was at last free of the supervillain that had plagued them for four years, and in the corridors of the police station Ladybug and Chat Noir were offered multiple muttered congratulations. Chat visibly flinched each time and Ladybug tried to ignore them. It didn’t seem right. Not in the wake of such atrocity.  
As the three emerged into the open air, paperwork dealt with, Ladybug’s eyes widened.  
“Adrien!” she said.  
Chat blanched. “What?”  
“Adrien Agreste,” she said. “Gabriel’s son. Hawkmoth’s son. We should check that he’s alright. We need to tell him, if no one else has.”  
“No,” Chat said sharply. “It’s all over the news. He’ll know by now. What use would we be? I’m the one who caused his father’s death, after all. He won’t want to see me.”  
“Chat. It wasn’t your fault.”  
“He wouldn’t have jumped if I hadn’t been fighting him.”  
“He jumped, Chat.”  
“Whatever,” Chat muttered.  
Ladybug shot him a concerned look. “I really need to go,” she said at last. “You have a point about Adrien. Maybe he doesn’t want to see us right now. But I do have to see my parents and tell them I’m alright. See you later tonight, Chat?”  
Chat nodded. “See you,” he murmured, devoid of usual quips and nicknames. Ladybug shot him another worried look before swinging off between the buildings.  
Alya raised an eyebrow at Chat. “Will your parents be worried too?”  
He shook his head. “No. But I still have responsibilities.” He separated himself from Alya and walked off into a dark alley, head hung low, limp tail swinging dejectedly behind him. Alya stared after him. Maternal instincts she had previously reserved only for her squad of four and her little sisters were tugging at her, but he was a superhero. He had a secret identity and his own life. She just hoped she had someone to go home to.

 

After all, Adrien thought, sitting on his bed, his father’s death wasn’t really his to deal with. Nathalie would manage everything, as she always did. There would be a public announcement and a private funeral. There would be drama in the company, of course, but after quitting modelling a year ago he was no longer associated with the Gabriel brand. He was eighteen. He could move out with his personal savings, maybe leave Paris now that Chat Noir was no longer needed. Maybe leave France. Change his name, move to Canada. Go to university in some corner of the world where he wasn’t associated with a supervillain. Forget all of this had ever happened.  
Plagg didn’t say anything, but he stayed by his chosen’s side in silent support. Adrien’s hand rested on top of his head. At least he wasn’t alone.  
There were several sharp raps on Adrien’s door. He raised his head. It was Nathalie’s knock.  
“Adrien?” she called through the door. “There’s a classmate of yours here to see you.”  
Adrien sighed. “No, thank you,” he called back. It was probably Chloe, and Chloe would only make things worse.  
“Adrien?” It was a smaller voice, a little uncertain. Not Chloe, then. He felt something warm in his chest. Marinette.  
Feeling as if his legs were made of lead, Adrien dragged himself to the door and pulled it open. Marinette stood there, lips pressed together in determination, hand raised to knock again. In her other arm she held a white cardboard box.  
“Come in,” he said, pulling her into the room and shutting the door before Nathalie could say another thing. Marinette squeaked slightly as he grabbed her arm. Once inside the room she set down the cardboard box on a table.  
“Adrien-“ she began.  
“Why are you here, Marinette?” he interrupted, a little harshly.  
She lifted her chin. “I’m your friend, Adrien. You’re having a difficult time, and I’m here to support you. That’s what friends are for.”  
“Is it?” he said, a little uncertainly.  
“Yes,” she said, nodding to add emphasis. Something welled up inside Adrien then, as he looked at this tiny, stubborn girl standing in the middle of his room so determined to support him no matter what. He had been so afraid that none of his friends would come back after they found out he was Hawkmoth’s son. The dam he had built so carefully broke. Barely aware of what he was doing, he flung his arms around Marinette and drew her into a tight embrace. She hugged him back fiercely, not even letting go when he rested his head on her shoulder and his whole body shuddered with sobs. In her arms, for a brief moment of time, he was safe and loved again as he had not been since his mother died.


	3. Emilie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie Agreste is alive, surprised, and deeply confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which there is exactly no Adrien or Marinette

In the darkness beneath the Agreste mansion, Emilie Agreste opened her eyes.  
She reached out and pressed a hand against the glass of the case she was trapped in. It didn’t budge.  
“Hello?” she tried, her voice weak from little use.  
There was no answer. 

She pounded on the case more frantically, straining atrophied muscles, and at last the glass shifted with a petulant screech and she stepped out into the dark garden. Moonlight streamed in the high windows. She took a deep breath. It was oddly quiet.  
Stumbling slightly as she regained her balance, Emilie made her way to the secret elevator and pressed the button that would her take her up to the rest of the mansion. Hopefully Gabriel or Adrien would be there, and they would be able to explain what had happened. Why she wasn’t dead. A dark thread of something akin to dread curled in her stomach, but she tried to ignore it. She didn’t know anything for certain yet.  
The mansion was as dark and still as the underground garden had been. She padded softly through the corridors, calling out for her husband and son but wary of the oppressive silence that settled all around her. The bedrooms were empty, though Adrien’s seemed more cluttered than she remembered. There was a cardboard box resting on a table with the logo of her favourite bakery. It was half-filled with croissants.  
Adrien had left a window open. She leaned out, finding herself breathing easier than ever before, and gazed down at the moonlight-bathed garden below.  
Two figures were sneaking through the rosebushes.  
Emilie narrowed her eyes at them. It looked like a young man and a young woman, the girl balancing a box awkwardly on her hip. They were engrossed in conversation, utterly unaware that they were being observed. The girl stooped and picked up a handful of gravel.  
Emilie withdrew silently from the window. She grabbed a torch from Adrien’s desk and ran downstairs, intent on confronting the intruders. The mansion was filled with secret doors and she punched the code into one of them, allowing her to slip out into the garden. It slid shut behind her.  
“Hey!” she said loudly, trying not to let a tremor into her voice. She had no idea what was going on. Gabriel was gone, Adrien was gone, and here were two strangers in her garden in the middle of the night. If they had nefarious intentions she would be lost.  
The two young people looked up, startled.  
“Who are you?” she demanded, brandishing the torch.  
“I, uh,” the girl stammered. “We’re friends of the boy who lives here. I’m Alya Cesaire, and this is Nino Lahiffe. We came to visit him. There were too many reporters earlier; only Marinette could get in.”  
Emilie blinked. “If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing,” she said.  
“We’re not lying!” the boy said, hotly. “And who are you? Why are you in the Agrestes’ garden at midnight?”  
“I live here. And aren’t you a little old to be Adrien’s friends?”  
“Uh…no?” Alya said. “We’re eighteen, same as him.”  
Emilie narrowed her eyes. “Adrien is thirteen.”  
“He really isn’t. Are we talking about the same Adrien Agreste?”  
Emilie sighed. “Look, mademoiselle, do you really think I don’t know the age of my own son?”  
Nino’s mouth dropped open. “No way,” he breathed. “You’re Adrien’s mother? Where have you been, dude?”  
Alya stared at her. “Oh my god,” she whispered. “You don’t remember? You don’t remember the last five years?”  
They seemed genuinely surprised and distressed. Emilie frowned. “The last five years? What year is it?”  
Alya told her the year. “You disappeared five years ago, ma’am,” she said. “What happened to you? And -oh god. I’m so sorry.”  
“Sorry for what?”  
“Your husband. Gabriel Agreste. He died yesterday.”  
“Oh,” Emilie whispered in a tiny voice and her legs gave way beneath her. She wondered vaguely why the young woman’s face was spinning in front of her, and then the darkness closed over her.

When Emilie came to, she was lying on a couch in her own living room. She squinted at the blinding light. In the corner, the young man and woman from the garden were conversing in low voices.  
“Where is he?” Alya whispered.  
“I don’t know! He isn’t picking up! Sometimes he does this, just goes completely off-radar.”  
“Well, we need him.”  
“What do you think this is going to do to him, Al? I mean- his father dies, and then his mother- “  
Emilie cleared her throat. “Hello?”  
Nino and Alya were at her side in seconds. Alya offered her a glass of water, which she received gratefully.  
“Are you alright, ma’am?” Alya said, her tone meek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you.”  
Emilie sighed. “It’s alright. I would have had to find out sometime anyway. If I may ask- how did he die?” She raised a finger. “No, wait. First. Where is Adrien? Is he alright?”  
Nino and Alya exchanged a look.  
“We don’t know,” Alya said. “I’m sorry. He was here earlier today- Marinette brought him some pastries from the bakery- but now neither of them are answering their phones. We thought he was here. Hopefully he’s at Marinette’s place, or something.”  
“What about the last five years? You said you were his friends. How did you meet him? What is he like now? Who is Marinette? Is she his girlfriend? I have missed so much of his life.” Her hands shook, nearly spilling the water.  
Alya perched on the couch beside Emilie and took the glass from her grasp. She held the woman’s trembling hands in her own.  
“Mrs Agreste,” she said in a gentle, steady voice. “Adrien is a wonderful young man. He is brilliant, brave, loyal, and unfailingly kind and generous to everyone he meets. You should be very proud of him. I promise, we will find him, and he will be delighted to have you back.”  
Emilie drew in a shuddering breath. “Thank you, Ms Cesaire. Now, can you tell me what happened to my husband?”  
Alya swallowed. “Um.”  
“Four years ago,” Nino prompted.  
“Right. Four years ago, after you disappeared, a supervillain appeared in Paris. He called himself Hawkmoth and he wielded the Butterfly miraculous. Um, a miraculous is-“  
“I know what a miraculous is,” Emilie interrupted. She had a terrible feeling she knew where this was going.  
“….Okay. So two superheroes emerged, Ladybug and Chat Noir, with the ladybug and black cat miraculouses respectively. For four years he made it his life’s work to capture their miraculouses by Akumatizing ordinary citizens, because apparently together the miraculouses give the ability to grant a wish. Or something. Anyway, yesterday night, they had their final showdown. Hawkmoth managed to capture the miraculouses, but then he jumped off a rooftop and then, uh, died. And turned out all this time he was actually your husband, Gabriel Agreste. Are you alright, Mrs Agreste? You’re not going to faint again, are you?”  
Emilie shook her head. “I don’t think so, Ms Cesaire, but thank you. Tell me. Did he kill anyone?”  
Alya shook her head. “No. Ladybug always fixed all the damage and injuries from the Akumatizations and well, he stabbed Ladybug and we all thought she was dead, and he nearly killed Chat Noir, but that all got fixed. The only person he killed was himself.”  
Emilie sighed. “That is better news than I had feared.”  
Alya stared at her openly. “How is that better than you had feared? Your husband turns out to be a suicidal supervillain, and you think that’s a good thing?”  
Emilie’s eyes flashed. “Watch your tone, young lady. I am sorry he is dead. I am sorry he chose to become Hawkmoth, and I am sorry the only way out he found was to kill himself. But I am glad that he is not a murderer. I am glad I do not have to live with that guilt.” She cleared her throat and stood. “I think I need to speak with this Ladybug and Chat Noir, before anything else. And I need to find Adrien.”


	4. Reunion

“Chat?”  
Chat raised his head and uncurled his stiff body from where he sat tucked into a nook of the Eiffel tower.  
“M’lady?”  
Ladybug swung into sight and dropped down beside him.  
“So, we defeated Hawkmoth,” she said without preamble.  
Chat twitched.  
“They’re setting off fireworks for us,” she said, pointing to the red and green explosions in the distance.   
Chat hugged his knees to his chest. “It’s not right,” he muttered. “A man is dead. They shouldn’t be celebrating.”  
Ladybug sighed. “I know. I actually knew him, you know. As Gabriel Agreste. He was kind of my hero. Is that weird?”  
Chat shook his head. “He was kind of my hero too,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to believe it. That he could be so… evil.”  
Ladybug squeezed his hand. “Sometimes we don’t know people as well as we think we do.”  
“But I should have,” Chat muttered. “I should have figured out who he was earlier. I should have known. Maybe then it all would have ended differently.”  
“You couldn’t have known. You figured it out in the end, that’s what matters.”  
Chat buried his head in his arms. “It shouldn’t have ended like this,” he said, his voice muffled. “I never wanted it to end like this.”  
“But it’s over.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Well, if it’s over…” Ladybug swallowed. “Chat, it’s late, and whatever happened yesterday I don’t think either of us should be alone right now. It’s hard enough having to pretend we weren’t there, or that we didn’t know what happened. So, do you want to come over to my house? We can eat croissants and try and distract ourselves.”  
Chat stared at Ladybug. He blinked. He stared again. She was still there, her words hanging between them, unchanged.  
“That would mean revealing our identities,” he said.  
“Well, yeah,” she said. “It’s about time, isn’t it? I always said it could wait until Hawkmoth was defeated. It’s not like it would change anything at this point, right?”  
Chat shook his head violently. “No. No. I can’t.”  
“Chat? You’ve always wanted to reveal your identity.”  
“Not now,” he said vehemently. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s all different now. I think you would hate me if you knew who I really was. I’m sorry, Ladybug. I have to go.” He stood and vaulted away, ignoring Ladybug’s desperate shout of “Chat!” as it pursued him into the night. 

Chat didn’t go far. He stopped and collapsed on a convenient rooftop and let himself just lie there, staring up at the stars.   
He had no one, he realised. His father was dead. His mother was dead. Ladybug would hate him if she realised he was actually her nemesis’ son, and Alya and Nino and even Marinette- sweet, kind Marinette- could never understand. He couldn’t tell them he was Chat Noir. He couldn’t tell them he had watched, had even caused his father’s death. That would be betraying his Lady, who deserved to know first, and yet he couldn’t tell her. She thought it wouldn’t change anything. She had never been more wrong.   
Well, maybe he was wrong, he thought, sitting up and staring at his ring. Maybe he didn’t have no one. He muttered the detransformation phrase and Plagg spiralled lazily out of his ring.  
“Ladybug’s going to hate me,” he muttered, his voice cracking. In his mind he couldn’t help but see the moment Hawkmoth drove his sword into her body, again and again. Ladybug was a good person, but how could anyone forgive the son of a man like that?  
Plagg floated up and patted the top of his head awkwardly.   
“You don’t know that, kid.”  
“She’s human, Plagg. How could she not?”  
“Nino doesn’t hate you. Alya doesn’t hate you. They’ve been calling you all day to tell you that. And…” He paused for dramatic effect. “…Marinette doesn’t hate you. Nobody fights through crowds of reporters to bring croissants and hugs to someone they hate.”  
“Marinette’s different,” Adrien said immediately.  
Unseen, Plagg rolled his eyes dramatically.  
“How so?” he said, with infinite patience.  
“Because she knew me before the Agreste name was tainted. She got to know Adrien without me being associated with Hawkmoth.”  
“Right. And Ladybug knew you as Chat Noir long before you were associated with Hawkmoth either.”  
Adrien groaned. “It’s different.”   
“It really isn’t.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Alya swiped her phone open. “Looks like Ladybug and Chat Noir were spotted on the Eiffel Tower,” she said. She sighed. “And… they’re gone. Sorry, Mrs Agreste. I’ve spent years trying to track them down, but when they’re gone, they’re gone.”  
“Please, call me Emilie.”  
“And I’m just Alya,” Alya said, smiling. “Alright then. Adrien still isn’t answering- good grief, Sunshine. I’ll post a private message on the Ladyblog for Ladybug and Chat Noir, see if we can arrange a meet up.” Her fingers flew over the phone screen. “Okay. Great. They might be busy, but they usually reply within a few hours. What do you think we should do now?”  
“You mentioned that Adrien might be with his girlfriend,” Emilie said.  
“Girlfriend?” Alya laughed. “You mean Marinette? She isn’t his girlfriend. Well, not yet. But yeah, it’s a slim possibility, but still.” She punched in Marinette’s number and listened to it ring.   
“Nope,” she said at last, sighing as she put the phone down. “Not answering. Honestly. Well, I suppose we could just go over there and see if she knows anything.”  
“It’s midnight,” Emilie said doubtfully.  
“I have a key.” She could see Emilie was struggling between courtesy and the need to know what had happened to her son, and she made the decision for her.   
“Come on. It’ll be fine. Anyway, a walk will do you good. Nino, can you look over Adrien’s room again? See if there’s anything we missed? He might come back. Let’s go, Mrs Ag- ah, Emilie. Is there anything you need to get?”  
Emilie pursed her lips. “I don’t think so. Oh- wait.” She stepped out of the room for a few minutes and re-emerged carrying a small, bulging shoulderbag. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

They snuck out through the garden and within a few minutes they were on the quiet streets of Paris at night. The occasional firework exploded overhead.   
“What’s the celebration?” Emilie said, frowning.   
“Ah.” Alya squirmed awkwardly. “Hawkmoth’s defeat.”  
“That’s a little crass.”   
“Yeah, I suppose it is.” She didn’t mention the enormous stack of fireworks at her own house that she and Nora had gathered and promised to set off for the twins.  
“He caused a lot of pain and suffering, didn’t he?” Emilie said quietly.  
“Nothing that Ladybug couldn’t fix.”  
“I am truly sorry.”  
Alya turned to her in surprise. “It isn’t your fault!”  
Emilie sighed. “Ah, Alya, but I am afraid it kind of is. I am the one who found the Book of Miraculous. I am the one who told him of the powers of the united creation and destruction miraculouses. And I am the one for whom all of this was for.”  
“What? How?”  
“You asked me where I have been for five years, Alya. I have been dead. All this time, Gabriel has been trying to acquire ultimate power so that he could bring me back. Such a wish requires an equal sacrifice. I have no doubt he meant to offer some stranger as the sacrifice, but in the end he sacrificed himself. He traded his life for mine. Hence, I am alive.”  
“That’s messed up.”  
Emilie only nodded. 

They reached the bakery soon after and Alya triumphantly produced a key.  
“It’s alright, her parents are away this weekend,” she said, unlocking the door and slipping inside. She flicked the lights on and marched through the kitchen, perfectly at home. Emilie stood stock still, awkwardly clutching her bag, while Alya breezed past her.  
“Marinette!” she yelled up the stairs, and waited.  
A few minutes later, a very grumpy and dishevelled Marinette appeared, swathed in an enormous, fluffy dressing gown.  
“Alya, it’s like one in the morning, what the hell,” she grumbled. She caught sight of Emilie. Her eyes widened and she missed a step on the steep staircase. “Who are you?”  
“Marinette,” Alya said patiently. “This is Emilie Agreste, Adrien’s mother. We’re looking for Adrien.”  
“Adrien’s mother? She’s alive? Then Hawkmoth won?”  
Alya frowned. “You knew Hawkmoth’s plan?”  
“Adrien figured it out. We didn’t realise he’d succeeded.”  
“Do you know where my son is?” Emilie said.  
Marinette shook her head regretfully. “I’m really sorry. I was with him earlier. He said he was going out this evening, but he didn’t tell me where.”  
“Does he have other friends he might have gone to see?”  
Marinette raised an eyebrow at Alya. “Chloe?”  
Alya shook her head. “Out of town.”  
“Then I have no idea.” She frowned.   
Just then a key clicked in the lock. All three of them froze and turned to look at the door.  
“Parents?” Alya whispered.  
“Not back until Monday,” Marinette whispered back. “Nino?”  
“We left him at Adrien’s.”  
“Then it has to be-“  
The door swung open, revealing a bedraggled Adrien, blinking in the sudden light.  
“Alya?” he said, blinking. “Marinette?” He turned to the third person in the room and stumbled, nearly falling to the ground. “Mother?”


	5. Kwami Kwami Everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which we swing wildly between fluff and angst

“Oh, Adrien,” Emilie said, her voice cracking. She reached out her arms to envelop him in a hug.   
Adrien flinched away. All he could see was his father’s face, broken and bloodied and still, lying on the road. All he could hear was Hawkmoth’s voice, sorrowful. It’s better this way, Adrien, he had said. He had succeeded. Hawkmoth had succeeded. Adrien’s mother was back, his enemy was defeated, his Lady wanted to reveal her identity and somehow all that victory had turned sour. Hot tears trickled down his cheeks. It wasn’t fair. How could he hug his mother, knowing he was the reason for her husband’s death? How could he go to her, with such a terrible secret weighing on his heart? Ladybug would never forgive him for being Adrien. His mother would never forgive him for being Chat Noir. Even if she didn’t blame him out loud, he knew she would always be thinking it.   
“Adrien.” A small, soft hand slipped into his own and he grabbed it. It was Marinette. He could smell her, a faint scent of sugar and cinnamon and strawberry-scented shampoo. She smelled like safety, like home. Holding her hand for support, he took a step towards his mother.  
And then Emilie stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, and for a moment Adrien allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, it would turn out alright.   
“I’ve missed you,” Emilie murmured into his hair. “I love you, Adrien.”  
“I love you too,” he choked back.  
After a long time, they separated, tears streaking both their cheeks.   
Adrien frowned. “Why are you here, mother? At the bakery, I mean.”  
She ruffled his hair affectionately, marvelling at how tall he was. “I found your friends Alya and Nino sneaking into the house to see you,” she said. “When we found you were missing, Alya thought you might have come here.” She glanced down at Adrien and Marinette’s linked hands.  
“And she was right. You did come and see your girlfriend.”  
“Mother! Marinette isn’t my girlfriend,” Adrien said.  
“We’re just friends,” Marinette said quickly.   
Emilie raised an eyebrow. “We’ll come back to this later, I think. For now, I really have something urgent to discuss with Ladybug and Chat Noir, these superheroes of yours.”  
“Um,” Marinette squeaked. “What?”  
Emilie reached into her bag and produced a blue brooch shaped like a peacock. “How much do the three of you know about miraculouses?” she asked  
“A little bit,” Marinette said.  
“Some,” Adrien admitted.  
“Not as much as I’d like to,” Alya muttered, craning her neck to see.   
“Gabriel stole this, along with the Butterfly miraculous, when we travelled to Tibet. It should be returned to the Guardian until there is a new Chosen-“  
The brooch glowed and a sphere of blue light spiralled out of it, coalescing into a tiny being.  
“Wow,” Alya deadpanned.  
“What is that,” Adrien said.  
“Hi, what’s your name?” Marinette said politely. She smiled. “I’m Marinette.”   
“And I am Duusu,” the kwami said imperiously.   
“Duusu is a kwami,” Emilie explained. She opened her mouth to explain further, but was interrupted by Duusu swinging around and diving headlong at Adrien. She headbutted him with kwami-force and he stumbled backwards.   
“Where is Nooroo!” she shrieked, flying around to have another go. “Give me Nooroo!”  
“Ow!” Adrien rubbed his head. “Good grief, Duusu.” He opened his jacket and a purple kwami floated out. “Here you go,” he muttered, ignoring Marinette’s wide-eyed stare. The blue and purple kwamis hummed happily, nuzzling each other.

Marinette broke the silence.  
“Um, Adrien?” she said, her voice strangely high-pitched. “Why exactly did you have Hawkmoth’s kwami in your jacket?”  
They were all staring at him expectantly. Adrien swallowed. This didn’t look good. The truth was, after taking his father’s miraculous as Chat Noir, he just hadn’t got around to returning it. Nooroo, long starved of company other than Gabriel, had been more than happy to hang out with Plagg and enjoy the sights of Paris. But Adrien could hardly tell anyone that. He cleared his throat. They would all think he was trying to become Hawkmoth, version 2. And they would hate him.  
Nooroo flew into the middle of the rough circle.  
“That would be because of me. I asked Chat Noir to give me back to Adrien,” he said, lying smoothly. Adrien gaped at him. “I thought I could be of some assistance,” he went on. “After all, I knew Gabriel better than anyone in the later years. I wanted to supervise the recovery from his actions, and from mine, rather than being trapped in the Miraculous Box again.” He smiled. “I trust Adrien. He would make an excellent Chosen.”   
Out of the corner of his eye, Adrien could see Marinette giving him a curious, speculative look which she dropped immediately as soon as he turned to her.  
“Well,” she said with false brightness. “Look at that! Two miraculouses recovered. We should let Ladybug and Chat Noir know that the Peacock is safe.”

Hovering in the rafters, Plagg rolled his eyes and tossed another wedge of camembert into his cavernous mouth.   
“Tikki, they’re idiots,” he said in a stage whisper.   
“Be kind,” she chastised him gently.  
Plagg groaned. “Just look at them, Sugarcube! Have you ever seen a more hopeless pairing? Your bug finally wants to reveal her identity, and my kid won’t let her because he thinks the only person who will forgive him is her civilian form! Hopeless, I said!”  
“He’s grieving. Be nice to him, Plagg.”  
“He’s hopeless, is what he is,” Plagg grumbled, but without any real anger.  
Tikki’s mouth twitched. “We should introduce ourselves. I’ve missed Nooroo and Duusu, and it seems a little ridiculous to hide with so many kwami in the room already.”  
“Whaa- Tikki!” He dived after her with an outraged shout and the two of them dropped down right on top of Nooroo.  
Marinette and Adrien both paled and opened their mouths to speak, but Tikki beat them to it, rolling off Nooroo and hovering in mid air.  
“Hello!” she said brightly. She nodded at the kwami. “Nooroo, Duusu. Long time no see. Hello, everybody. I am Tikki, the kwami of creation, and with me is Plagg, the kwami of destruction. It is very nice to meet you.” She spun slowly in place. “We have left the sides of our chosen in order to welcome back the kwami we thought we had lost.”  
Nooroo’s mouth was twitching, as if he was trying to stifle a laugh.   
“Left the sides of our chosen, hey?” he whispered.   
“Shut up,” Tikki hissed back. “They aren’t ready.”

Adrien plastered a smile on his face. “My pleasure to meet you, Tikki and Plagg.”  
“Likewise,” Marinette echoed.  
Alya squeaked. “Are you really Ladybug and Chat Noir’s kwami? Oh my god.”  
Plagg yawned. “Yeah. Trixx misses you, by the way.”  
Without looking, Tikki reached behind her and smacked Plagg. He bounced away, cackling.  
Emilie’s eyes widened. “Alya? Trixx? Are you the bearer of the fox miraculous, Alya?”  
“Um.” Alya swallowed. “I was? Temporarily?”  
“Adrien, Marinette, did you know your friend was a superhero?” Emilie said.  
“Uh. No?” Marinette said.  
“I had no idea,” Adrien said.  
“Definitely not.”  
“Her secret identity was very secret.”  
“Wow, Alya.”  
“I can’t believe you are Rena Rouge.”  
“Oh my god.”  
“I know a superhero! Wow.”  
Alya narrowed her eyes suspiciously. 

Tikki cleared her throat. “Anyway. We can take any messages you might have to Ladybug and Chat Noir.”  
“Thank you,” Emilie said. “I’d like to meet the heroes who defended Paris from the awful actions of my husband.” She drew Adrien to her side and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I think Adrien should meet them as well. Our family owes them an apology.”  
Adrien’s face twisted and he pushed his mother’s arm away. “No,” he growled with surprising vitriol. “Ladybug, maybe. But Chat Noir? You weren’t there. You didn’t see them fight. I’ve seen the footage. Chat Noir didn’t give him any other choice. Chat Noir didn’t even give him the chance to surrender peacefully. Father was a monster, but Chat Noir is the reason he is dead. The last face he saw. His mortal enemy.” He shuddered. “I don’t want to meet Chat Noir. I never want to see his face again.”  
Plagg floated up to him and raised the kwami equivalent of an eyebrow.  
“That can be arranged,” he said. He floated close to Adrien’s ear.  
“Don’t worry. I am the god of breaking mirrors,” he whispered, low enough so no one could hear him.  
“Adrien,” Marinette snapped, turning on him with blazing blue eyes. He resisted the urge to take a step backwards. Marinette could be seriously terrifying when she wanted to be. What had he done? Had he overdone it on the Chat thing? Perhaps he had overdone it. He had poured all his guilt and self-loathing into a vitriolic rant, but he supposed it might sound strange to those who didn’t know who Chat was.  
“Adrien,” Marinette repeated. “I know you’re hurting. I know losing your father is hard. But Chat Noir is a person too, a good person, and you are being unfair. Hawkmoth made his choice. You saw the footage. Chat Noir didn’t make him do anything. He isn’t to blame. You don’t have to meet him, that’s fine, that’s your right, but don’t pretend like your pain is his fault. He had no other choice.”  
Adrien could feel tears in his eyes again. “I don’t deserve you, Marinette,” he whispered.   
“Rubbish,” she said firmly, resting her hands on his shoulders and staring determinedly into his eyes. “You deserve everything.”


	6. Oblivious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emilie, the only responsible adult in this story, dumps a shitload of backstory before attempting to clear up some misunderstandings. Adrien and Marinette continue being painfully dense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which we veer wildly from comparative sanity into crack territory for a chapter

“Thank you for meeting us, Ladybug,” Emilie said, extending her hand.  
Ladybug shook her hand and then Adrien’s. “It’s my pleasure. Welcome back from the dead, Mrs Agreste.”  
“Thank you. I am sorry your partner could not be here.”  
“So am I,” Ladybug agreed, glancing sideways at Adrien. He didn’t seem particularly perturbed, despite his rant in the bakery.  
Emilie reached into her bag and brought out the peacock and butterfly miraculouses.  
“These are the property of the Guardian, I believe.”  
“Thank you,” Ladybug said solemnly, slipping the jewels inside her yo-yo.  
“I have a story to tell you, Ladybug,” Emilie said. “A story to tell both you and Adrien. I think it is time you knew the truth. It might help to give a little… context to Gabriel’s actions.”  
Ladybug and Adrien exchanged glances.  
“Okay?” Ladybug said. “Please, sit down. I’m sure Marinette won’t mind.” They had gathered on the balcony on top of the bakery. Emilie and Adrien sat down, Ladybug across from them.  
“When he was small, Adrien was very sick,” Emilie began. She smiled fondly at her son. “We tried not to talk about it around him. But he was sick- so sick, that the doctors said that even going outside could kill him. We kept him isolated. Gabriel built our house like a fortress, though what he thought steel walls would do against disease I don’t know. We homeschooled him, only rarely permitted visitors, barely left the house ourselves. But it was all for nothing. He got sicker and sicker. Eventually, the doctors said he had days, weeks at most to live. He was eight years old. We needed a miracle. And luckily, I knew about miracles.  
My grandmother was a Guardian, you see. She taught me about the miraculous. I knew that the powers of the ladybug and black cat miraculous combined were near limitless, provided an equal price was paid. Gabriel and I travelled to Tibet, and there we broke into the Temple of the Miraculous. I didn’t know then that Gabriel stole two miraculouses. I found the ring and the earrings, and I united them to fulfil my wish. Adrien was healthy and all his memory of being sick was gone. And, as all things require balance, I became sick. I thought it was a fair trade. We left the Temple. The universe was satisfied, my boy was healthy, and if I was to die I counted it miracle enough that it would mean my son would not have to suffer. Any mother would have done the same.  
Gabriel did not see it like that. He couldn’t see why it was our family that had to pay the universe’s price. He was furious, convinced that I should have somehow forced a stranger to bear the burden. He vowed to me that if I were to die, he would use the miraculous to trade a stranger’s life for mine and bring me back. I had no doubt he meant it. I lasted for five more years. We homeschooled Adrien, kept limiting visitors to protect me, and gradually I saw Gabriel become colder and colder even as I grew sicker. When I died, I died in fear, terrified that he would somehow murder a stranger in my place. He never could understand that the powers of the miraculous are only to be used on the willing. To force another to pay the price of a wish is to corrupt and corrode the wish until it becomes a terrible, skulking thing that brings its revenge on the wisher. Or perhaps he did understand at the end.” She sighed. “I saw the footage, Ladybug. He was about to kill your partner, to use him as the sacrifice, but when he detransformed I think the old Gabriel finally realised the ramifications of what he was about to do. He forgot, I think, that there were real people under your masks.”  
Adrien was silent. He knew it was his face that had brought his father to his senses. He had started this and he had ended it. His father had died, not in place of his mother, but ultimately in place of him.   
“Thank you for telling me that, Mrs Agreste,” Ladybug was saying.  
“Emilie, please.”  
“Emilie. Thank you.”  
“You deserved to know,” Emilie said, rising. “Tell your partner, please. There should be no secrets between you.”  
Adrien glanced at her sharply. Ladybug tilted her head to the side. “Why do you say that?”  
“I told you my grandmother was a Guardian,” Emilie said. “I didn’t say that she was also the last Ladybug before you. Adeline, her name was. She married my grandfather, the Chat Noir of the time, as civilians, but they never told each other their identities. In the end they fought and broke their own hearts because they refused to tell each other their secrets. It was only when Chat Noir died that she discovered the man she had loved and left was the same as her Chaton, and that all that fighting could have been avoided if only they had been honest with each other.” She smiled sadly. “That Chat died because he was attempting to rescue Adeline from a burning house, not realising she was safe and fighting beside him. If she had told him her identity he might have lived and my mother might have grown up with a father.”  
“Emilie, I’m so sorry,” Ladybug whispered.   
“Sorry won’t bring anyone back, Ladybug, but you can save yourself from making the same mistakes.”  
Ladybug shifted awkwardly, fiddling with the string of her yo-yo. “Chat doesn’t want to know my identity,” she blurted out.  
Emilie raised an eyebrow. “Why not? That isn’t like one of Plagg’s kittens.”  
Ladybug swallowed. “I don’t know. He used to want to know, but after Hawkmoth’s defeat, he changed his mind.”  
“Talk to him,” Emilie advised. “Friends, partners, lovers- the essence of any good relationship is communication and honesty.” She glanced from Adrien to Ladybug.  
“And honestly?” she said. “I’m frankly astonished you haven’t worked it out already. I’ve been watching old Ladyblog footage and I’ve already figured out both your identities.”  
“What?” Ladybug said, her eyes wide. Adrien choked. Emilie smirked. “Come on, Adrien.”   
They climbed back down the trapdoor and paused in Marinette’s room.  
“So,” Adrien said hesitantly. “You know who Chat Noir is?”  
Emilie gave him a stern look. “I know you are Chat Noir, yes.”  
“How?”  
“First video I watched. I saw you vaulting over those rooftops, grinning and making cringe-worthy puns and I thought- there’s the baby boy I knew. I was glad. I thought that my death might have crushed all the spirit out of you. Although I’m not sure that channelling it into a masked vigilante alter-ego is a healthy coping strategy.” She ruffled his hair, messing it up to look more like Chat’s.   
Adrien spluttered. “No one has guessed.”  
“I’m your mother, Adrien. I would know you anywhere.”  
“What about Ladybug? If you tell me you’re her mother too-“  
Emilie laughed. “No. But she’s even worse than you at hiding her secret identity.”  
Adrien groaned. “I cannot believe that you figured out both our identities in a day. And Plagg gave away Alya’s.”  
“Does Alya have a boyfriend?”  
“Yes, my friend Nino. Why?”  
“Glasses, dark skin, cap, likes DJing?”  
“Yeah.” Adrien frowned. “He features in her blogs sometimes.”  
“He’s Carapace.”   
“I am so done with this,” Adrien muttered. “You know, I wish we hadn’t given those miraculouses back to Ladybug.”  
“Why?”   
“I wanted to give one to Marinette. She’s the only one of my friends without a miraculous, which is ridiculous, because she’s the most deserving of a miraculous of anyone I know. She’s so kind, and brave, and she always stands up for what’s right. She fights for justice every day, even if she isn’t a superhero. I would be lost without her. Honestly, if she and Ladybug teamed up, there’d be no use for the rest of us.”  
“Is that right,” Emilie said, neutrally. “She seems like a nice girl. Are you sure she’s not your girlfriend?”  
“Yes. She doesn’t even like me that way.”  
Emilie’s eyebrows shot up so far that they attempted to blend in with her hair.  
“Really?”  
“Yeah.” Adrien sighed. “You haven’t seen how she normally acts. She gets really uncomfortable around me, and she does weird things like stammer every time she talks to me or runs away. Alya and Nino keep trying to get us to spend more time together, but it barely ever works and it just seems to make her flustered and nervous.”  
Emilie, once again, found herself deeply regretting missing so many of Adrien’s formative years. She resisted the urge to scream into her hands.   
“Stay here,” she said, and marched downstairs.

“Marinette.”   
Marinette looked up, startled. She was wielding a rolling pin and her apron was dusted with flour. A streak of flour had somehow made it into her hair.  
“Yes, ma’am- I mean, Emilie?”  
“You’re Ladybug.”  
Marinette swallowed and glanced from side to side to see if anyone was watching.  
“Yes,” she admitted quietly. “But you can’t tell anyone.”  
“I won’t, although I am extremely tempted. Tell me, Marinette, honestly, woman to woman- do you harbour affection for my son? Do you, as they say, like him?”  
“I don’t like him,” Marinette said. She slapped the rolling pin into the dough with a little more force than was strictly necessary. “I love him, Mrs Agreste. I’ve loved him for years.” She glanced up at the ceiling. “He doesn’t know, though.”  
“No,” Emilie agreed. “I’m afraid he’s woefully oblivious of what is right in front of his eyes. As are you.”  
“Excuse me?”  
“You love Chat Noir.”  
Marinette flushed. “Yes, alright, but it’s not like that. I love Adrien. I love Chat too, but as a friend. A partner. He complements my Ladybug. It’s different.”  
Emilie only sighed and walked away.


	7. Parents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The parents have a Chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back on board the angst train folks

She was trying to smile. She was trying to smile, for Adrien’s sake and for Marinette’s and for Alya’s. She was trying to smile because the moment she stopped, she knew she would start crying and once she started Emilie was afraid she would never stop.  
Marinette had said she could use her room, and Emilie had spent hours sitting at the computer, watching and rewatching every video the Ladyblog had ever posted. She kept coming back to the final one. Again and again she watched Adrien detransform. His back was to the camera, his hair and clothes no more distinctive than Chat’s, but she knew it was him. She saw Hawkmoth’s eyes widen in horror and the sword he had raised to deliver the killing stroke shudder. She saw him run and Chat chase, and her gut twisted in horror every time Gabriel, her own Gabriel, stepped up onto the edge of the rooftop and just as calmly stepped off.  
She heard Adrien scream, again and again, and every time it broke her heart.  
The video cut to shaky footage as Alya ran down the steps, her frantic breaths background noise. When it came into focus again, Gabriel’s dead body lay crumbled on the tarmac with Chat kneeling, weeping, beside him. She watched Chat remove Gabriel’s miraculous. She watched the detransformation wash over him. And she watched, again and again, as Tikki’s pink ladybugs swept over the area and the hope grew and then died in Adrien’s eyes.  
Watching it didn’t help. She suspected it only made it worse. But she kept on hitting the replay button, hoping to gather some scrap of comfort from her husband’s last moments.  
There would be no public mourning. There would be no grave. Any memorial would only be defaced by the hundreds of Parisians who had been terrorised by him. There would be nowhere to lay down flowers. His body, once released by the police, would be cremated and the ashes scattered out to sea.  
She rested her head against Marinette’s desk and wept.

She had fallen head over heels with Gabriel. He was a wonderful young designer, stubborn but passionate, and he had been brought in to help with costume design on her first film. His dry humour and awful, deadpan puns had made her laugh. With him, she had forgotten to feel nervous about her acting. Her stilted scenes became smooth and the director had never ceased to wonder at the change. “I was ready to write you off, Emilie,” he had told her. “Directing you was like steering a boat still dragging its anchor. And then you got that spark in your eye, and we were flying.”  
It had all been thanks to Gabriel. She had supported him faithfully and he had supported her, and the day he had proposed was only rivalled for her happiest memory by the day she had first held Adrien in her arms. She had loved them fiercely, her boys, even when Adrien got sick and Gabriel started shutting himself away. Even when their world shrank to the three of them, trapped in that big house, all together and yet paralyzingly alone. She had loved them when they travelled to Tibet. She had loved them when she had made her choice, and she had loved them both even when Gabriel refused to accept it. She had held him and they had cried together, mourning the happiness they had had and had lost, wishing for just one more miracle that wealth couldn’t buy.  
She had loved him even as she died, and now that she was alive and face to face with all the awful things he had done in the name of his love for her, she was frozen. There was an aching hole in her heart that would never be filled, not even if some miracle brought him back again. He had betrayed her in the end. He had abandoned their child, ignored her choice, strayed away from every moral compass they had once set themselves by, and yet she struggled to give up on him. There were too many unsaid words hanging between them and she would never have the chance to say them.  
She had meant to apologise to Marinette. To lay herself bare, to accept that her family had torn Paris apart in their selfishness, but she couldn’t find the words. She couldn’t bear to hear Marinette’s response. If it was blame, she didn’t think she could stand it, and if it was forgiveness she didn’t think she could accept it. It was easier to act as if nothing was wrong. If she kept on pretending to these teenagers that everything was alright, perhaps she would start to believe it herself.

“Hi Marinette,” a voice sang out from downstairs. “We’re home! We came back early. Are you up there?”  
Emilie froze. Alya had gone home. Marinette and Adrien had given each other half-hearted excuses for needing to be somewhere else, though she knew they were heading out to transform. She was alone, except for Nooroo and Duusu, who Marinette had still not returned to the Guardian. The two kwami’s nested together in Tikki’s secret drawer, catching up on years of separation.  
“Marinette!” the voice called again, and Emilie realised she would have to confront its owner. She sighed and made for the trapdoor.  
As she stepped down onto the staircase, Emilie froze. A familiar face stared up at her from the bottom of the staircase, and she realised belatedly that she had recognised the voice from earlier.  
“Sabine Cheng?” she said.  
Sabine stared at her in shock. “Emilie? Emilie Martin? What are you doing here?”  
It had been years since anyone had addressed her by that name. “Marinette let me in,” she said. “It’s… a long story. So Marinette is your daughter?”  
Sabine nodded. A large man came through the door, carrying stacks of suitcases. Sabine gestured to him. “This is my husband, Tom. We own this bakery. Tom, this is Emilie Martin. We were best friends in high school when I lived in Cannes, and then we completely fell out of contact. I haven’t seen her in years.”  
“Nice to meet you, Emilie,” Tom said gruffly, shaking her hand. He carried the suitcases into the other room.  
Sabine busied herself in the kitchen, making tea. “So how do you know Marinette?” she said, taking a pair of mugs down from the shelf. She seemed unperturbed by finding Emilie casually in her house.  
“Actually, she knows my son Adrien,” Emilie said.  
Sabine froze. The mugs fell from her hand and shattered against the ground and she stared at the broken pieces, unable to move. Tom poked his head in.  
“Everything alright?” he said.  
“Yes,” Sabine said in a strained voice. “Fine. The mugs slipped. It was an accident.”  
“I’m so sorry,” Emilie said, rushing forward. “I can help clean up, I’m sorry-“  
“No, no,” Sabine said, still in that hushed, tight voice. “Leave it.” In a kind of mindless rhythm, she swept up the broken pieces, dropped them in the rubbish, took down two new mugs, and poured the tea. They sat on opposite sides of the table. Sabine took a long sip of tea from a mug held between shaking fingers.  
“You’re Emilie Agreste,” she said flatly.  
Emilie nodded.  
“I don’t want to accuse you of anything,” Sabine began. “But you see how this looks, don’t you? You go missing for five years, and then the moment your husband is outed as Hawkmoth you return and I find you snooping around my daughter’s bedroom. Can you please explain? Does Marinette know you’re here?”  
“You’ve seen the footage? Of Gabriel’s death?”  
Sabine nodded. “It was playing on every channel.”  
“I died, five years ago. Gabriel used the powers of the miraculous to bring me back, sacrificing his own life for mine. When I woke up I tried to find my son, and your daughter’s friend Alya helped me to locate him here. It seems he had sought her out for comfort. Marinette graciously allowed us to stay overnight- after all, I am still officially dead, and the mansion is being investigated by the police. Adrien and Marinette are out at the moment but they will be back soon.”  
Sabine sighed. “I can’t believe you were in Paris, all these years,” she said. Her death grip on her mug had relaxed a little, as she apparently accepted Emilie wasn’t another supervillain.  
“I was confined indoors for a long time for health reasons,” Emilie admitted. “And then I was dead. But I’m sorry we never kept in touch.”  
Sabine smiled at her then, a dazzling smile that stripped all her years away and sent Emilie straight back to the days when they had confided their secrets in each other and made plans for the great and wonderful things they were going to do when they left school.  
“Adrien is a wonderful boy,” she said. “You should be very proud of him.”  
Emilie nodded. “I am. And you should be very proud of the daughter you raised. I should have known she was yours the moment I saw her- she has your fire. Your stubbornness.”  
Sabine laughed. “Oh, yes. And her father’s clumsiness. But that’s part of her charm.” They sat for a moment in silence, sipping their tea.  
“Marinette has a massive crush on Adrien, you know,” Sabine commented.  
Emilie smiled. “I realised. And he’s completely oblivious.”  
“He’s head over heels for her too, though he doesn’t know it.”  
Emilie’s hand stilled, halfway through raising her cup.  
“Do you know?”  
“Do _you_ know?”  
“Know what?”  
“I would recognise my daughter anywhere,” Sabine said carefully, “If that’s what you mean.”  
“She’s Ladybug.” Emilie was more blunt.  
“And Adrien is Chat Noir.”  
They drank their tea.  
“That video is horrifying,” Emilie said quietly. “I can’t stop watching.”  
Sabine nodded. “I keep seeing Marinette get stabbed with that sword. I thought I could bear her being Ladybug, but not like that. If she had died I don’t know what I would have done. And then Adrien, by his father’s body- it broke my heart, Em.”  
“I know how you feel,” Emilie said quietly.  
“They’re young,” Sabine said. “And stronger than either of us can understand. They’ll recover, with time. With our help. I’m not so sure I will.” She sighed and drained the last of her tea. “Have they revealed their identities yet?”  
“No. I tried to encourage them, but I think they need to come to it themselves.”  
“Em, do you remember back in college? When we planned out our future?”  
Emilie laughed. “Yes. We were going to be enormously rich, and our children were going to marry each other, and we were all going to live together in one huge house and eat homemade pastries all day long.”  
“Well, I’ve got the pastries,” Sabine said, smiling.  
“I’ve got the house,” Emilie offered.  
“And I’ve got five years head start on planning Adrien and Marinette’s wedding,” Sabine said, raising her empty mug in a toast. “To new beginnings, Em, and old friendships.”  
“To new beginnings and old friendships,” Emilie echoed, and tapped her mug against Sabine’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've always liked the idea of Emilie and Sabine being the Marinette and Alya of their school


	8. A Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ladybug and Chat Noir have a much-needed talk

“Chat, I have something to tell you,” Ladybug said.  
“I told you. I don’t want to reveal my identity, not yet. So I don’t want you to reveal yours.”  
Ladybug sighed. “It’s not that. Well, it’s connected to that. Someone found out my identity. And yours too.”  
Chat nodded. “Emilie Agreste. Yeah. I know. I’ve talked to her.” His tone was subdued. “Was that all you wanted to say?”  
“No, actually.” Ladybug dropped down beside him. “Chat,” she began. “You’re the only one who might be able to understand this, even though I kind of feel like you have a conflict of interest, but I hope you can put that aside, because I really need your advice, but I don’t know if-“  
Chat raised a hand. “Whoa, Ladybug, you’re rambling. Slow down.”  
“Okay.” Ladybug took a deep breath. “You know Adrien Agreste?”  
Chat blanched. “Yeah,” he said tightly. “What about him?”  
“You hate him,” Ladybug said flatly.  
Chat gave her a sideways look. “Um. What?”  
“You get all shifty and sarcastic when I mention him. Like just then. And I get it, he’s Hawkmoth’s son-“  
“Right,” Chat interrupted. “We can’t trust him.”  
“-BUT,” Ladybug continued, talking louder, “You don’t know him.”  
Chat raised his eyebrows at this accusation. “I don’t know Adrien Agreste,” he said, flatly.  
“No, you _don’t_ , or you’d never say those things. I know him.”  
“You know him from billboards.”  
“No, I _actually_ know him,” she huffed, poking a finger into his chest to drive her point home. “In real life. I’m his friend. And let me tell you, there is no one kinder or lovelier in all Paris. If you knew him, you would like him, I’m sure. You even have equally terrible taste in puns. But the point is, I’m his friend, and that’s why I need your help. I need you not to be weird because he’s Hawkmoth’s son, or because I have a crush on him, or because you have some kind of grudge-“  
“Wait,” Chat said, wide-eyed. “Hold on a minute. Did you say _Adrien Agreste_ is the mystery guy you have a crush on?”  
Ladybug flushed. “Yes. That’s not the point. It’s irrelevant anyway, he’s grieving, he needs a friend to rely on, not an admirer.”  
“You keep saying you’re his friend,” Chat said. “But he has like five friends, and I’m pretty sure your civilian identity isn’t among them.”  
Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Like I said. You don’t know him. Anyway, if I could get to my _actual question.”_  
“Go ahead.”  
“I’ve been hanging out with him. Supporting him, you know. But I feel guilty, because he doesn’t know I’m Ladybug. I keep feeling-“ She sighed. “I keep feeling like it’s tricking him, somehow. That if he knew I was Ladybug, he wouldn’t want to spend time with me, because I played a part in his father’s death. Like he would blame me. And the longer I go without telling him, the worse I feel. What should I do, Chat? Do I just have to leave him? Stop being his friend because I can’t tell him the truth?”  
Chat’s eyes widened, both from realisation and from fear. “No!” he said. “No, don’t stop being his friend! Good grief, Ladybug, why would you even think that?”  
“Okay, okay,” Ladybug said, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “I won’t. I just thought-“  
“Stop thinking,” Chat said, willing his heartbeat to slow a little. Ladybug was his friend. She wasn’t going to stop being his friend. She wasn’t leaving. It was alright. Which only left the question of which of his friends was Ladybug in disguise. It couldn’t be Alya, Nino or Chloe, since they already had secret identities. Ladybug was his friend, but she couldn’t be her own secret identity. Since he only had five friends, that left only-  
“Can I smell your hair?” he said suddenly. He frowned. That wasn’t what he was planning to say. No, he had meant to say something suave, that would show Ladybug he was cool and unruffled by the prospect of her abandoning him. The hair smelling was just weird. Now she would think he was _weird_ , and she would leave him for good, and-  
“Sure,” Ladybug said, laughing. “Bit strange, but go ahead, kitty.” She bent her head towards him obligingly and he buried his face in her hair.  
Oh. Sugar and cinnamon and strawberry-scented shampoo. He was right. What he had hardly dared hope for was confirmed. She was _Marinette._ His heart leapt and twisted and did an odd series of somersaults before settling back down to pound in his chest. She was Marinette, and she had no idea who he was.  
“I love you,” he mumbled. He could _feel_ her smile.  
“Love you too, kitty.”  
“Don’t stop being friends with Adrien just because he doesn’t know you’re Ladybug,” he said.  
“I won’t. I wasn’t going to, anyway.”  
“If you stop being friends with Adrien, I’ll stop being friends with _you_ ,” he said.  
She laughed. “That’s a pretty severe threat, kitty. I’m not sure I’m that easy to get rid of. I’d cling to you like a limpet.”  
“A limpbug. A ladypet. A-“  
She booped his nose. “Stop.”  
“You should ask him out.”  
Ladybug drew back from him in shock. “What? Adrien? No.”  
Chat flushed. “I just thought- if you like him, and-“  
“Chat, no. He’s in mourning for his father. It’s totally inappropriate to take advantage of someone’s grief like that. It would stress him out. He needs a friend, not a date. Besides, I’ve told you this many times before, he doesn’t like me like that.”  
Weren’t that the words he’d used to his mother about Marinette? Adrien groaned internally. He was an idiot. A complete and utter dense idiot. Because okay, yes, it was terrible timing. But what hadn’t been, in four years? He loved Marinette. He needed Marinette. He wanted to hug her and know she was never going to leave.  
“I bet he does like you back,” Chat said out loud.  
“I bet he doesn’t,” Marinette shot back. “  
Chat straightened up, a gleam in his eye. “What do you want to bet?”  
“Chat, no. This is stupid.”  
“It’s fun.”  
“You think you’re going to win, but you won’t. You don’t know Adrien. He only thinks of me as a friend. I’ve heard him say it multiple times. ‘Oh, Marinette?’ he says. ‘No, she’s just a good friend.’” Ladybug froze. “Oh shit.”  
Chat grinned at her.  
“ _Ugh,”_ Ladybug groaned, swatting his nose. “Four years! Four years of a perfectly good secret identity, and I blow it with a slip of the tongue! Talking about Adrien makes me an idiot.”  
“If it’s any consolation, I guessed about ninety seconds ago,” Chat said. “You smell like her.”  
Ladybug narrowed her eyes. “Now I’m worried, Chat. Have you been going around smelling civilians so you can build up a smell library to compare me to? Because there’s weird and then there’s _weird._ ”  
“Nope, just lucky,” he said. “I have to go, Maribug. See you soon.” With that he vaulted off the tower leaving her staring after him with questions swirling all through her mind.  
“ _Maribug_?” she said at last to the empty air. “Really, Chat? You’ve been calling me _Buginette_ for literally years, and when the moment comes you go with _Maribug_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one reveal down, one to go
> 
> Thanks for the comments guys! Please keep leaving them, I love hearing from you!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m Ladybug.”  
> “Yep,” Adrien said happily. He took a bite of croissant. “And I’m Chat Noir.”  
> “No, I’m serious.”  
> “Hi Serious, I’m Chat Noir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which Marinette is unbelievably oblivious and we career off the angst train back into lovesquare fluff territory

“Emilie, I-“ Marinette began as she burst through the bakery doors, only to be brought up short by the sight of Emilie Agreste calmly sharing a cup of tea with her mother.   
“Maman,” she spluttered. “What are you doing here?”  
Sabine calmly poured herself another cup of tea. “You were stabbed,” she said. “I’m your mother. We came as soon as we could.”  
“You _know?”_ Marinette turned a look of utter betrayal on Emilie. “You told my mother?”  
“Marinette. I’ve known for years,” Sabine said.  
Marinette huffed and dropped into a chair across from her mother. “I can’t believe you. It’s barely a secret identity now.” She rolled her eyes. “Chat Noir found out today. He said it was because of the way my hair smelled. Can you imagine that?”  
Emilie’s eyes sparkled. “Is that right? Well, Chat does have enhanced senses. Did you find out his identity as well?”  
“Nope. I’m not sure I want to, actually.” Marinette reached for the teapot and poured her own cup.  
“Why not?” Sabine enquired.  
“Well, what’s it going to change? So what if I put a name to a face? He’ll just be the same kitty, with the same kindness and loyalty and the same stupid puns, just with half as many ears. And more normal eyes.” Her face grew contemplative. “I guess I’m afraid if I find out his civilian identity, he’ll become part of my civilian life. And I both want that and I don’t, I guess. What if he doesn’t get on with my friends? I mean, Adrien can’t stand the sight of him, and I get that, I do, but what do I do? Do I just never let them meet? Do I never tell Adrien that Chat’s civilian identity is Chat? What if he found out?”  
“You’re overthinking again, dear,” Sabine said.   
“Maybe I am.” She glanced at Emilie. “Do you think I should tell Adrien that I’m Ladybug? Do you think he’ll resent me for it? I asked Chat Noir, and he said I should just tell him the truth, but you’re his mother. Should I wait? Or does waiting make it worse? I don’t want to change anything between us.”  
“Marinette,” Sabine said, a note of exasperation in her voice. “You asked _Chat Noir_ whether or not you should tell _Adrien_ your secret identity?”  
“Uh. Yes? Should I not have done that?”  
“No, it’s fine. Chat’s a smart boy. You should follow his advice.”  
Marinette wrinkled up her face. “You don’t even know him, Maman.”  
“Yes, I do,” Sabine said with a smile. “I feed him croissants.”  
Marinette groaned and knocked her head against the table.

 

“Who gets fed croissants?” Adrien said, walking through the door.  
“Chat Noir,” Sabine said.  
“Maman,” Marinette hissed. “He doesn’t want to talk about Chat Noir.”  
Adrien frowned, his ears twitching. “M’l- Marinette, it’s okay. You can talk about Chat Noir if you want.”  
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  
“Marinette,” Adrien said patiently. “I really don’t mind. Sabine, a pleasure to see you. You were saying about croissants?”  
“I was saying I often give them to Chat Noir when he passes by the bakery.” She winked and passed him a croissant. The colour drained from his face and he stared at the croissant as if it had personally accused him of something awful. Marinette, still slumped on the table, had missed the whole exchange.   
“You should really feed Ladybug too, then,” he said, glancing at Marinette.  
“Oh, I do,” Sabine said with a grin. “Sometimes she sneaks into the fridge and helps herself to treats without permission too.”  
“ _Maman_ ,” Marinette uttered, raising her head and giving her mother a scandalized look. She glanced at Adrien. “I’m Ladybug.”  
“Yep,” Adrien said happily. He took a bite of croissant. “And I’m Chat Noir.”  
“No, I’m serious.”  
“Hi Serious, I’m Chat Noir.”  
“Adrien. I mean it.” Marinette sighed. “I’m the real, actual Ladybug, and I’m so sorry.”  
Silently, Sabine and Emilie withdrew to the kitchen.  
Adrien laid the croissant down with some reluctance and let the humour dissipate from his face. This was important to Marinette, he knew, and this moment deserved to be treated with solemnity. Even if it was fairly amusing.  
“Marinette,” he said seriously. “Thank you for telling me. There’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m very glad you’re Ladybug. I don’t know anyone else who would make a better superhero.”  
He watched with some amusement as her cheeks and the tips of her ears went pink.   
“Uh, Marinette?” he said. “I realise this is not a good time. By which I mean, this is the absolute worst of all times, but then you almost died, and I thought, well, maybe I’ll never get a second chance. Life is short. So, Marinette-“ he trailed off. This was harder than he thought. Her eyes were so blue and so kind and he was so terrified of disappointing them.  
“Yes?” Marinette prompted.  
“Would you go on a date with me?” he said all in a rush.  
Marinette slammed the table with her fist with such vehemence that all the plates jumped and Adrien reared back, his eyes blown wide.   
“No!” she said.  
Adrien sagged. “Okay. I’m sorry. I-“  
“Wait!” Marinette was staring at him with a stricken look. “I mean yes!”  
Adrien frowned. “Now I’m confused.”  
“ _Ugh,_ ” Marinette mumbled eloquently and dropped her head onto the table. “I cannot believe you broke my lucky streak.”  
“Lucky streak?” Now he was seriously confused.  
Marinette raised her head, flushing as she realised the extent of her odd actions. “Sorry. My lucky streak of winning bets against Chat Noir. He bet me you didn’t like me back. Anyway. Yes, Adrien, I will go on a date with you. Let’s get married and have three kids and a hamster.”  
“Maybe…not yet?”  
“Oh my god did I say that out loud?”  
“You certainly did. It’s part of your Marinette charm.” He leaned across the table and pressed a kiss to the parting of her hair. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you for always being here for me.”  
“It’s my pleasure, Adrien.”


	10. If Adrien was a Superhero....

Adrien’s mouth had gone dry. He stared out at the sea of reporters, seeing nothing but the flurry of camera flashes and a cacophony of voices that all blended together.  
Emilie’s hand came to rest lightly on his shoulder for support.  
“Mr Agreste, did you know your father was Hawkmoth?”  
“Mr Agreste, what is the future of the _Gabriel_ brand?”  
“Mr Agreste, what are you going to do now?”  
That was the real question, Adrien thought as he stepped forward to the podium. Unfortunately, he had no idea. His eyes found Marinette’s in the crowd and she gave him a small, encouraging smile. He cleared his throat.  
“Hello, Paris.”  
The crowd eventually stilled.  
“Thank you for all coming. My name is Adrien Agreste, and my father was the late Gabriel Agreste, also known as the supervillain Hawkmoth. I am here to offer my family’s deepest apologies for his actions. Like the rest of you I had no idea of his criminal activities until he was posthumously unmasked by Chat Noir. I will be here to answer your questions, as best as I can.”  
“Mr Agreste, is the woman with you really your mother?”  
Adrien nodded. “Yes. This is my mother, Emilie Agreste. She returned to Paris after an extended absence when she heard the news.”  
“Mr Agreste, what will happen to the company your father built?”  
Adrien thought back to the conversation he had had with Nathalie a week ago, just after he and Emilie had returned from Marinette’s house. He had been trying to avoid her but eventually she had confronted him with her tablet in the hallway.  
_“Adrien.”  
“Nathalie,” _ he had said steadily. _  
“The company.”  
“I know. I don’t want anything to do with it. I assume sales have tanked in the wake of Father’s reveal?”  
_ Nathalie had tapped on the tablet screen several times, bringing up a series of graphs.  
_“Not at all, actually,”_ she said. _“The reverse, in fact. Notoriety is its own kind of publicity. People are eager to buy clothes designed by a famed supervillain. But my point is, we’ve had several offers to buy the company and if you really want nothing to do with it I think you should take one.”  
_ She had named the offered sum and Adrien’s eyes had widened. He asked her to repeat it. He had never imagined so much money all existing in the same place before. It wouldn’t be enough to sustain him and his mother in luxury for ever, but it was enough to allow Emilie to comfortably retire if she so chose and support him while he went off to university. They could keep the mansion and forget about the company entirely. He had discussed it with Emilie and they had finished signing the paperwork only that morning.  
Adrien cleared his throat, realising the crowd was waiting for a response. “The _Gabriel_ brand was my father’s project. It is not affiliated with myself or my mother at all and will soon be under new ownership.”  
“Mr Agreste! Have you spoken to Ladybug and Chat Noir?”  
Adrien nodded. Ladybug and Chat Noir had held their own press conference two days prior. The mayor had personally congratulated them on their victory. Only Marinette’s presence beside him had kept him from being physically sick.  
He took a couple more questions and then abruptly closed the press conference.  
“That will be all,” he said, somehow managing to keep his voice steady, and stumbled off the podium into the waiting car.  
Emilie drove. They made their way in silence to the bakery, where Tom and Sabine had been allowing them to stay. Adrien climbed straight up to Marinette’s room, flung himself onto the chaise where he had been sleeping, and promptly burst into tears.

Not long after, Adrien heard the soft thump of spotted feet landing on the mattress above. Footsteps padded across the floor.  
“Oh, Adrien,” Marinette murmured. The cushion dipped as she sat on the couch beside him and stroked his golden hair as if petting a cat. “It’s okay,” she said. “You did very well today.”  
Adrien snuffled and sat up. “I don’t know why I miss him so much,” he said in a broken voice. “He didn’t even love me.”  
“Yes, he did,” Marinette said. “Okay, he was terrible at showing it. He did awful things, to you and to everyone. But he was your father and it’s alright to miss him and to still love him in spite of everything.”  
“He nearly killed you.”  
Marinette winced at the memory. She had been trying to block out the memory of the sword slipping between her ribs, pinning her to the ground as blood bubbled in her lungs.  
“Yeah,” she said at last. “He did. But Tikki fixed me.”  
“Remind me to give Tikki a _lot_ of cookies.”  
“She deserves them,” Marinette agreed. She patted him on the head. “Now, I have to go out and meet Chat Noir.”  
Adrien frowned. “You do? Oh right, it’s Monday. Patrol night.”  
“You know our patrol schedule?”  
Adrien shrugged. “I follow the Ladyblog.”  
“You’re a nerd.”  
“You love me anyway.”  
“Yep,” Marinette said, sighing contentedly. “I do. Bye, Adrien.” She clambered onto her bed and swung out into the late afternoon light.  
Adrien sighed, wiped his face, waited a good ten minutes, and vaulted out after her.

He found Ladybug pacing on the platform of the Eiffel tower that they had affectionately claimed as their own.  
“M’lady,” he said, with some of his usual playfulness. “Fancy seeing you here.”  
Ladybug groaned. “I can’t believe you were right.”  
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”  
“About _Adrien,”_ Marinette growled. “You were right. He does like me back. He asked me out.”  
Chat blinked. There was something off about her tone. “And isn’t that a good thing?”  
“Yes! Of course it is. I love him, Chat. But what if he doesn’t know that? What if he thinks I only said yes out of pity? I mean, I didn’t, of course. But what if he thinks I did?”  
“He isn’t an idiot, Marinette.”  
“There’s something else.” Ladybug dropped down beside Chat, letting her legs swing out over the edge of the ledge. She sighed and Chat’s ears drooped.  
“I want to share every part of my life with him, Chat,” she said, staring out at the horizon. Chat’s ears perked up again.  
“But I can’t.”  
“Why not?” he asked.  
“Because I’m Ladybug. And he knows that, but I can’t share it with him. I can’t share- this.” Her arm swept out to gesture to the whole of Paris. “Ladybug is such an important part of who I am. I didn’t realise that before, but I know it now. Eventually, the fact that I’m a superhero and Adrien isn’t is going to ruin whatever we have.”  
Out of her line of sight, a smile tugged at the corners of Chat’s mouth.  
“Princess, I’m offended,” he said. “It sounds like you wish he was your partner instead of me.”  
Ladybug’s head whipped around, a stricken look on her face.  
“Chat, no!” she said. “You’re the only partner I could ever want. You’re irreplaceable.”  
“I bet Adrien would make a great superhero.”  
Ladybug shook her head. “Don’t. It isn’t funny. I don’t want to think about that.”  
Chat tilted his head to the side. “What’s wrong?”  
“Chat.” She took a deep breath. “If Adrien was a superhero, he would have had to fight against his father. And that’s too horrible to contemplate. I always meant to give him a miraculous, you know, but what would have happened if I had? What if the Bee miraculous belonged to Adrien instead of Chloe? Or the fox miraculous instead of Alya? Imagine how awful that would make him feel.”  
“Pretty awful,” Chat agreed, his drooping tail twitching beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh good grief


	11. This Is Not The Identity Reveal You Were Looking For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette has a terrible night's sleep. Some truths come out.

After Ladybug left, Chat stayed on the tower, kicking his legs idly against the structure.  
He had _tried._ She could hardly say he hadn’t tried. He had told her he was Chat Noir to her face, twice, and she had brushed it off both times. He hadn’t understood it at the time, but after her most recent revelation he thought he understood.  
She didn’t want him to be Chat Noir.   
Months ago, even weeks ago, he might have been hurt. Now he understood where she was coming from. Chat was her partner, her confidant, her rock. The moment he became Adrien as well, she would feel like she had to look after him. He wanted to believe that the truth wouldn’t change anything but he knew differently. Marinette might not hate him for being Adrien, or for being Chat Noir, but the moment she found out the truth he knew that Chat would stop being an escape from Adrien’s problems. Still, he could hardly keep it up forever. His mother already knew. Sabine already knew. The longer he went without telling Marinette, the worse she would feel.   
It was on the tip of his tongue whenever he saw her. They ate together. They slept in the same room. The weight of his secret was beginning to eat him from the inside.

That night, Marinette dropped quickly off to sleep as was her custom and Adrien lay awake, staring at the ceiling.  
“You have to tell her, kid,” Plagg said, hovering above him.  
Adrien sighed. “I know. I tried, but denial is a powerful thing. If she even _thought-_ “  
“Don’t pin this on her,” Plagg warned. “You’re the one who spent four years swearing that you would recognise her the moment you saw her out of costume.”  
“Okay, fair enough. But _still_. This- what we have- this is good. I don’t want to ruin anything. I don’t want to make her feel bad for not realising sooner.”  
“Adrien, I swear, if you start overthinking this-“  
Adrien huffed. “I’m _not_ overthinking. I just don’t want to hurt her.”  
“ _Chat_ ,” Marinette cried out, with such agony that Adrien had vaulted off the couch and scrambled up the stairs to the bed before he realised she was still asleep. She was thrashing wildly, her eyes screwed shut. “Chat,” she sobbed. “Don’t do it, don’t go after him, don’t die. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me to die.”  
Realisation crashed down onto Adrien with such force that he sat down heavily on the edge of Marinette’s bed. She was right. He had left her to die on that rooftop. He had gone after Hawkmoth instead of staying by her side. How long had she lain there, detransformed, alone, while he chatted to Alya and wept over the body of their enemy? He had thought she was dead, but she had only been dying without even Tikki to comfort her.  
“Chat,” she whimpered. “Don’t leave me.”  
He interlaced his fingers with hers. “Never,” he promised, his voice shaking. “Never again. I’m so sorry, Ladybug. I’m so sorry.”  
Tikki floated up beside Marinette and nuzzled into the side of her neck. She murmured something to her chosen and then turned impossibly wide blue eyes on Adrien.  
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she said. “You went after your father. You recovered three miraculouses. You did the right thing, and Marinette knows it.”  
“I should have been there with her,” he said. “I should never have let her get hurt in the first place.”  
“Kid, you can’t save everyone,” Plagg said, hovering in front of him. “She’s fine. She’s alive. Tikki fixed her all up. Stop beating yourself up about it.”   
Adrien gazed down at Marinette’s sleeping form, a lump in his throat. She had stopped thrashing and sunk back into peaceful sleep. If it wasn’t for her tangled, sweat-soaked sheets it would have looked like she didn’t have a care in the world.  
He sighed, gently disengaged his hand from hers, and pulled himself up through her trapdoor and onto the balcony.

Paris lay before him, in all its resplendent nighttime glory. The Eiffel Tower made a stark silhouette against the stars. He found himself missing the days when they had akumas to fight. Sure, they had risked their life day after day, he was constantly exhausted, and their identities were constantly in jeopardy, but it hadn’t quite seemed real. Chat had been an escape for him, an alternate fantasy life where the girl of his dreams completed impossible acrobatics alongside him and together they always saved the day. It had been a kind of game. Right up until he discovered Hawkmoth was his father and his worlds collided painfully.

It had been completely by accident. He had snuck out of his room one night to steal camembert from the kitchen, and seen his father descending into the floor on a weird platform. He had thought nothing of it at the time, but a few days later curiosity had overcome him and he had tried the platform out himself. It took him directly to a lair filled with butterflies.  
Even then, he had tried to deny it, to rationalise away what couldn’t be rationalised. But when Gabriel had entered the room he had watched with horror from his hidden position as his father transformed into Hawkmoth before his very eyes. There had been no use denying it after that.   
Ladybug had wondered why he had been so late to the battle and so distracted during it, but afterwards he took her aside and told her in a low voice that he knew who Hawkmoth was. She had asked him once if he was certain, and then she had accepted it, not pushing for proof or for details. She had trusted him, and then she had held him as he sat and sobbed, without even asking him why. He was pretty sure he didn’t deserve her.

“Plagg, what do I do?” he said aloud.   
Plagg rolled his eyes. “You know, I know, we all know. You have to tell her the truth.”  
“But how? Do I transform in front of her? Do I just tell her? Do I introduce her to you?”  
Plagg yawned. “I don’t care. Just tell her.”  
Marinette’s bleary head poked through the trapdoor, her hair all mussed up.  
“Adrien? Who are you talking to?”  
Adrien blinked. “Oh. Uh. Chat Noir?”  
He could _feel_ Plagg groan. The kwami was perched on one of Marinette’s pot plants, completely in view if anyone cared to look.   
Marinette visibly brightened. “Oh? Is he still here? Did he come to see me?”  
“He…um. He left.” Adrien gestured vaguely to Paris to indicate where he might have gone. Plagg was silently cackling.   
Marinette hauled herself up through the hatch one handed. She was bundled up in a fluffy blanket and when she sat on a deckchair she made the most adorable lump of sleepy fluff that Adrien had ever seen. He wanted to hug her. Was he allowed to hug her? Was it morally right to hug her, while still lying to her?  
Marinette yawned. “What did he want?”  
“Oh, he and I just had a few things to clear up,” Adrien said with false brightness. He resisted the urge to brush Marinette’s hair out of her eyes. “He really loves you, you know,” he said softly, and immediately flinched. He hadn’t meant to say that. No, that would just complicate things.  
Marinette smiled. “Don’t worry, Adrien, he’s not going to steal me away from you.”  
“I’m not worried about that.” If anything, he was more worried about the opposite.   
Marinette chuckled. “Alya’s going to be disappointed.”  
“What? Why?”  
“She always shipped me and Chat Noir. Well, Ladybug and Chat Noir.” She frowned. “Come to think of it, so did you, on the rare occasions we could get a straight answer out of you on the topic.” She smirked at him. “Regret that now, do you?”  
Adrien laughed. “Don’t blame me for that. I didn’t know who you were. I just thought you and Chat Noir would make a cute couple.”  
Marinette rolled her eyes at him. “Well, you can only blame yourself. If I hadn’t been so helplessly infatuated with you, I probably would have agreed to go out with him.”  
Adrien nearly fell off the balcony. “ _Really_?”  
Marinette shrugged. “Yeah. He’s my best friend. Someone I trust with my life. You know, I’ve always thought a relationship can start one of two ways. It can start with a crush and then develop into a friendship, or it can start with a friendship and then develop into a crush. With you I had the crush. With Chat I had the friendship. If I hadn’t already chosen you, I might have tried to develop my partnership with Chat into something more, but it never came to that. We’re just friends.” She narrowed her eyes. “I hope that isn’t a problem for you.”  
“Not at all,” he said, staring at her with wonder. “I’m glad you can trust your partner.”  
Marinette hummed. “I just wish he could trust me.”  
“What?”  
“With his identity, I mean. Well, not exactly. I don’t care whether or not he actually tells me his name. I just… there’s something going on with him, Adrien, and he won’t tell me what. I think he’s lost someone close to him.” She offered him an apologetic half-smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t bother you with someone else’s problems.”   
“He obviously matters to you, Marinette, and what matters to you matters to me.”  
“Thanks, Adrien.” She shivered. “Did he want to talk to me, or just you?”  
“Oh, you were asleep, so he didn’t want to bother you.”  
“I better go and see what he wants, then.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back soon.” She called on her transformation and swung off before Adrien had a chance to react.   
“Wait! I’m-“ he called after her, but she was already gone. “…right here,” he muttered. “Plagg, claws out.”   
“…Adrien?”   
_That_ wasn’t Marinette’s voice, which was fine, because everyone else in the household already knew he was Chat Noir, except that it wasn’t Emilie or Sabine or Tom either. Chat whirled around.   
And came face to face with a wide-eyed Alya, her head poking through the open hatch.  
“Oh no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alya breaks into marinette's house in the middle of the night for the second time in this fic. girl has some privacy issues


	12. Alya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alya finds things out

“I knew it,” Alya said smugly. She was sitting on Marinette’s floor, cradling a cup of hot chocolate. Adrien, detransformed, sat opposite her. He blinked.  
“You did?”  
“Well, I didn’t _exactly_ know, but you were my first real guess. Marinette convinced me I was wrong, though.” She narrowed her eyes. “Does Marinette know?”   
Adrien sighed. “Nope. I keep meaning to tell her, and then I freeze and say something stupid instead.”  
“Now, why does that sound so familiar,” Alya mused. “Oh, I know. Because that’s _exactly_ what Marinette has been saying about her massive crush on you for _years_. Oh.” Her eyes widened. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that. Marinette is going to kill me.”  
Adrien gave an embarrassed cough. “She told me. I asked her out, actually.”  
“Finally! And she didn’t tell me?” Alya’s voice rose in outrage. “Forget all that, I’m going to kill _her_.”  
Adrien’s smile was distinctly forced. “Alya, I know you’re joking, but can you not-“  
Alya froze. “Oh god, I didn’t even think. Adrien, I’m so sorry.” She flinched as another realisation struck her. “Oh,” she whispered. “That was _you_. On that rooftop. Down below, when I found you. That was _you._ That was why Hawkmoth jumped when he saw you transform. That was why you were so upset. You saw your father-“  
“Die, yes, I know. I was there,” Adrien said, his voice taut. “Can we please talk about something else?”  
“Of course. Let’s, uh, talk about Ladybug.”  
A crooked smile made its way onto Adrien’s face. “Ladybug. Yes. Let’s talk about Ladybug.”  
“Does she know who you are?”  
Adrien shook his head. “It’s complicated.”  
“Damn right,” Alya muttered. “I assume you don’t know who she is either, then.”  
“Oh.” Adrien gulped. “Yeah. I do.”  
“ _Really?_ Is she as amazing outside the suit as inside it? Do you think she would tell me her identity? I’m not going to publish it or anything, I just want to know.”  
Adrien got a far away look in his eyes. “Yes, she’s just as amazing outside the suit, if not even more amazing. I’m not sure that there’s a limit to her amazingness. She’d probably tell you her identity if you asked, she’s become much more relaxed about it after Hawkmoth’s defeat. Alya, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”  
Alya narrowed her eyes. She recognised that look. That was a _Marinette_ look. A hopelessly-in-love look. She’d accepted five minutes ago that not every superhero’s identity was as obvious as Nino’s, and previously dismissed connections were clicking together in her mind. Adrien had apparently just asked Marinette out. Now he was swooning over some other girl?  
“Adrien, if Ladybug isn’t Marinette, I am going to throw you off the Eiffel Tower, superhero or no superhero,” Alya threatened.  
Adrien gaped at her, realising perhaps he had said too much.

There was a dull thump on the loft bed above them and both pairs of eyes flashed up to see Ladybug drop onto Marinette’s bed and pink light wash over her, revealing her identity. Alya’s mug dropped from her hand, saved from shattering only by Adrien’s quick reflexes.  
Marinette opened her mouth, caught sight of Alya, tripped over her bedsheets and tumbled over the railing. She executed a perfect flip in mid-air and landed in a crouch in front of a startled Adrien and Alya, breathing heavily.   
Alya’s mouth fell open.  
“Yep,” Adrien said, taking a sip of Alya’s hot chocolate.

“Alya!” Marinette said. “Did you- how did you- why are you-“  
“You gave me a key, girl!”  
“Not so you could come to my room in the middle of the night and bother my boyfriend!”  
“I’m officially your boyfriend now, am I?” Adrien said, startled.  
“Well, only if you want to be, I mean,”  
“Yes! Yes, I mean, that’s fine-“  
“ _Marinette,”_ Alya interrupted. “You’re _Ladybug_?”  
Marinette swallowed. “Yes. I meant to tell you. I was just… busy? And I had to tell Chat Noir first, of course. And then I told Adrien, because he deserved to know.”  
“Wait,” Alya said, her eyes widening. “Chat Noir _and then…._ You mean you don’t know that…”  
Adrien’s hand flashed out and covered Alya’s mouth.   
Marinette rose an eyebrow at him and Adrien forced a smile, attempting to convey a ‘this is fine, everything is normal’ vibe.   
He wasn’t sure it was succeeding.  
When he was sure Alya wasn’t going to spill anything, Adrien let his hand fall.   
“What don’t I know?” Marinette demanded.   
“You don’t know. Um. You don’t know that I already knew your identity before you told me.”  
“What? How?”  
“I just… figured it out? I realised there couldn’t be _two_ girls in Paris as amazing as you and Ladybug. Statistic improbability. When you told me, it was just confirming it.”  
“I cannot believe this,” Alya muttered. “You two are hopeless.”  
“Adrien, could you give us a minute?” Marinette said. “Alya and I need to have a conversation about barging into people’s house’s in the middle of the night and finding out their secret identities.”  
Adrien nodded and obligingly disappeared down the trapdoor and into the rest of the house.

When he was gone, Marinette planted herself opposite Alya and glared at her.  
“What do you know?” she said in a voice of deadly calm.  
“You’re Ladybug.”  
Marinette nodded.  
“Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth.”  
Nod.  
“I’m Rena Rouge.”  
Nod.  
“Nino is Carapace.”  
Nod.  
“Chloe is Queen Bee.”  
Nod. “And…”  
“And Adrien is Chat Noir.”  
Marinette sighed. “Yeah, I figured. I started to suspect this evening, and then I saw him transform on the balcony. I was expecting him to come after me but I suppose you intercepted him. Alya, why doesn’t he want to tell me?”  
Alya hummed thoughtfully. “I think he does. He’s just scared.”  
“What? Why?”  
“Look, he’s had a difficult couple of weeks. His father died. His mother came back to life. The superheroine he’s in love with turned out to be one of his friends. You know what he doesn’t need more of right now?”  
“Death?”  
“Change, Marinette. He’s worried that if you find out, things will change.”  
“That’s ridiculous. Nothing’s going to change.”  
“Really?” Alya raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Nothing?”  
“No! It just makes me feel awful! He had to fight his father, Alya! He watched his father _die_ and I must have been so stupid and insensitive and awful and-“  
“That’s my point,” Alya interrupted. “Of course that’s how you’re going to react. That’s how _I_ reacted. And that’s what he’s worried about. I’ve interviewed you, Marinette; I know that you have always seen Ladybug as a responsibility. Adrien doesn’t see Chat that way. He sees his transformation as a way to have the freedom he has never been allowed. As Chat, he can outrun Adrien’s problems, and that’s what he’s been doing. Once you find out he’s Chat he probably thinks it’ll be over. You’ll look at him differently. You’ll pity him instead of relying on him; you’ll comfort him instead of laughing at the stupid jokes he makes to distract himself from his shitty life. Plus, he’s probably deeply reluctant to tell his girlfriend that he’s the guy she’s been rejecting for the last four years.”  
“When did you get so wise, Alya?”  
“When I adopted you two dorks, girl. I’ve been your biggest fan since forever. The least I can do is try and help sort out your relationship issues.”  
Marinette bit her lip. “What do I do? Do I tell him I know?”  
Alya shook her head. “Don’t drop it on him. Just show him that nothing is going to change, and let him come to you when he’s ready. It’ll be okay.”  
Marinette sighed. “Thanks for being so cool about this.”  
“Of course.” She grinned. “I can’t believe I never guessed. I’m so proud of you, girl, and I hereby forgive you for every time you flaked on something in the last four years. It makes so much more sense now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come on adrien, you can do it! one more chapter to go


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short fluffy chapter

Adrien stood outside the mansion he had lived in all his life, staring up at the forbidding windows. Someone had scrawled some ugly graffiti across the front door and he couldn’t find it in himself to blame them.  
It was hard to believe that all this time, Hawkmoth had been living just down the hall from him. Every time he had left his room to fight an akuma, the source of all the akumas had been right there. In retrospect it probably explained why he had so rarely been caught being conspicuously absent.  
Beside him, Marinette slipped her hand into his. “I’m here,” she whispered. Adrien shot her a grateful glance. She was always there. She had always been there. He realised that now. Even before his father had died, she had been there, defending him, protecting him, saving the city and saving him. It had been a month since Gabriel’s death and she had been there every step of the way.  
“Together?” he said.  
She squeezed his hand. “Always.”  
They stepped over the threshold.

“So, I did something big today,” Chat said later, lying on a rooftop with his tail twitching behind him. Ladybug glanced over at him.  
“Oh?” she said.  
“I went back to my house for the first time since my father died.”  
“I’m proud of you, Chaton.”  
“My girlfriend came with me. She’s amazing.” He gave her a sideways look. “She’s been a big support to me for years, even before we were together, and I want to tell her I’m Chat Noir.”  
“So do it,” Ladybug said, smiling softly.  
“I’m worried it might affect our relationship. I don’t want to rock the boat.”  
“Chat,” she said seriously, reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder. “Change can be scary, but it can also be good. Was I scared about telling Adrien I was Ladybug? Of course. I was terrified. But it only brought us closer together, because there were fewer secrets between us. Was I scared when Alya found out? Yes. I tripped over my railing and nearly died. But you know what? It didn’t change a thing. She’s still my best friend and she forgave me. She understood. I’m sure your girlfriend will understand as well.”  
“Marinette,” he said, taking a deep breath. This was the moment. The point of no return. He had put it off for too long, but it was time to reveal his identity and deal with the fallout. She would understand. He had to believe she would understand.  
“Marinette, I’m Chat Noir.”  
Ladybug blinked. “I know.”  
“You _know?”_  
Ladybug raised an eyebrow. “You’re still wearing your costume, kitty.”  
He flushed. “Oh. Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe it’s easier if I show you.” He uttered the detransformation phase and stared at the ground as the light washed over him, waiting for Ladybug to gasp or scream or run away.  
She didn’t do any of those things. She stepped forward and hugged him and he hesitantly returned it.  
“I know,” she said, leaning back so she could see his face. “Thank you for telling me. And, Adrien?”  
“Yes?” he said.  
She poked his nose. “You totally cheated when you bet me Adrien liked me back.”  
He cracked a smile. “Yeah. I kind of did.”  
“I bet you I can beat you to the Eiffel Tower.”  
“You’re on.”  
She smirked and planted a kiss on his cheek. “See ya, Chaton.” With that she flipped backwards and somersaulted off the edge of the building, yo-yo already out and spinning.  
Adrien called on his transformation, but he didn’t move. He stared after her, a smile spreading across his face. He was still her kitty. She was still his bug. He had told her, and the sky had not fallen.  
  
He found her later, high up on their usual perch, and they sat together in comfortable silence. Ladybug sighed happily and rested her head on his shoulder.  
“Did Alya tell you?” he asked.  
She shook her head. “I saw you transform, after I left that night. I freaked out a little bit and swung away before I saw Alya turn up.”  
“I can’t believe I was agonizing all this time about how to tell you, and you already knew.”  
“I can’t believe I spent four years trying to get your attention and simultaneously turning you down.”  
“Well, all this agonizing about how to tell you is good practice for when I propose to you,” he quipped.  
Ladybug snorted. “Bold of you to assume I won’t propose first. In fact, I’m pretty sure I already did.”  
“Ah, right. How could I forget? I asked you out and you _immediately_ told me we were going to get married. That wasn’t a proposal, Bug. That was an order.”  
She poked him. “Rude. I panicked.”  
“You still want to marry me, even after I turned out to be your stray cat?”  
She stroked his golden hair. “Oh yes. Even more so.”  
He grinned. “Three kids and a hamster, you said? Excellent. I’m going to make the best dad jokes.”  
Ladybug groaned. “I take it back. I rescind my proposal, immediately. You’re going to corrupt my children with your terrible sense of humour.”  
“ _Our_ children. And you love my puns.”  
“You’ll never get me to admit it.”  
“Me and the three catbugs are going to pun at you until you do.”  
“Catbugs? You’re awful.”  
“I’m… _clawful_.”  
“Stop. Stop right now.”  
“What’s the matter? I thought you’d be im _purr_ essed.”  
He was grinning again, the wide Chat grin she had missed, and she choked back a snort of laughter. He hadn’t punned since before he revealed Hawkmoth’s identity.  
“See!” he said triumphantly. “You’re laughing! You love my puns.”  
“I love _you_ , you stupid cat,” she sighed, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.  
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I love you too. And you know what?”  
“What?”  
“I think we’re going to be alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Master Fu: *sighs and breaks into Marinette's house to recover Nooroo and Duusu*


End file.
